Tainted Fire
by tainteddaughter
Summary: The prisoner of a windowless cell- and he's consuming every thought in my head." Violet Harmon is sent to Briarcliff, after a brutal suicide attempt, where she meets Tate Langdon, a school shooter, who proves to be much more interesting than she imagined.
1. The Entrance

**_ Violet:_**

I'm screaming.

Nobody can hear me, except the guards. But I strain my voice for a purpose. They're practically throwing me now, chucking my body around like it's worthless. Don't get me wrong, I know it is. That's the entire reason I tried to bring the knife to my throat.

With a few more shuffled footsteps, they throw me through a door. Hazel eyes can finally see the place where I'll be trapped. Of course, I've heard the stories. Briarcliff had a reputation for being some sort of torture chamber. And from the looks of it, it probably is. I'm going to be jailed here. Like a caged animal. Left with nothing but myself and my mind.

They had already removed anything I could use to my advantage. Even my shoelaces, so that my brown converse were practically falling off. There hadn't been much of a formal introduction. Some paperwork, a tear from my useless parents- and then I was being sent to my own personal Hell.

"Stay in here until we call you back out." The tallest guard tells me.

"Bullshit, I don't have to listen to you." I reply, words piercing. He only rolls his eyes and opens another door, knocking me into a huge room.

The first thing my senses can notice is the song. Some annoying French tone is screaming in my ears. I practically stumble backwards, right into the chest of somebody else. It doesn't scare me, though. Nothing does. Quickly, I turn around to face the stranger. "Sorry.." My voice mumbles.

His hair is blonde, light. But his eyes are darker than anything I could imagine. They're practically empty. His entire face is empty, filled with nothing but the curse of loneliness.

_**Tate:**_

The day had once again been terrible. I never figured it would be anything better, but a change of pace could be exciting. Something other than pain. I was beginning to get tired of the pain, psychical and mental. It kept eating its way back into my brain. The therapy this place offered was nothing but shit. _Why did you kill those kids, Tate? Oh wait, we don't care. We only want to torture you._

I spend most of my time tucked away in the common room. Just observing people proves to be entertaining. They all know what I've done, and of course most of them ignore me. Except for Melody- the 70 year old woman that had been stuck here forever. She was a diagnosed schizophrenic, but for some reason gave her trust to me. If she wasn't so fragile, I'd ask her to help me escape. Escape wouldn't be easy for me, considering I'm just 17.

Today, my hands are tapping impatiently at my sides. It's like I'm waiting for something, yet my brain can't think of what. Until, over the terrible music, I can hear screaming from outside. It's unfamiliar, and I shoot up from my sitting position. Somebody new. Something new.

I take a few steps forward, until the door practically bursts open. There's the two guards, and a trapped prisoner. I only see her for a minute before she runs into me. Her hair is light, a dirty blonde. And she's tiny and vulnerable. _She shouldn't be here. I don't want her locked up in this place. _I've never seen her before, I didn't even know there would be a new resident. But she's beautiful.

It takes everything in me not to just stop and stare her down. I've seen beautiful girls before, but she's different. This one is capturing my attention, and her voice is pure. I already don't want to loose her.

"It's okay." I announce, finally getting a look at her face. My gaze goes directly to her eyes- which are innocent and comforting. Filled with some sort of confident fire. "What's your name?"


	2. Not a Liar

_**Violet:**_

He's different.

That's the first thing I notice when he speaks. There's something about him that's different. And definitely intriguing.

Yet, there is something utterly familiar. His face is dark, but I've seen it before. Somewhere, I have seen it.

"Violet. And yourself?" I mumble , a bit awkwardly. He announces his name as well. _Tate._

Then, I remember. Really remember. His name- Tate Langdon, had made world headlines. It was on the front of the newspaper in Boston. _Tate Langdon, Shoots 15 kids at Westfield High. Taken to Briarcliff, pronounced insane. _I should leave, now. Run. That would be the appropriate thing to do. But, I had never been one to like normal things. My response wouldn't be one of fear. In fact, I chose to pretend not to recognize him. There was still more to this boy that I didn't know. Layers of his personality were clearly visible. I was only on layer one, but I wanted to get deeper.

"Well, Tate. You gonna tell me more about this place?"

_**Tate:**_

Her name is the same as a flower. Elegant and suitable, even though her personality is darker. If I could, right now, I would leave everything and plan to escape with her. I want to know her even more. I want to know why her name is Violet, and why she's here. And why her eyes are suddenly as beautiful as the rest of her.

"Pretty name. I'm Tate." I tell her. Hopefully, she doesn't recognize me. Most people pass judgement as soon as they know who I am. But nothing about her countenance says she does. Violet still looks perfectly composed. Carefree, almost. She's too pure to be trapped in a place like this. Innocent, and wild. I can see her having a future- a real one. And it's all I want for her.

_Tate is a psychopath. He's incapable of remorse._

_ Wrong._

"There's not much to tell. Every rumor is true. There's shock therapy and solitary, and the cafeteria food is totally fucked up. If you do anything wrong, they'll literally beat you. One guy was blinded after a failed surgery. The doctor does the crazy surgery. Don't ever get near him." I murmur, not hesitating to admit the truth. "-But don't worry about any of that. Okay? I'm not going to let anything hurt you."

It's a broad statement. A little too sudden of me, but I don't care. I'm not one to lie.

My name is Tate Langdon. I may be a monster, but I'm no liar.


	3. Wilting Violets

_**Violet:**_

_I'm not going to let anything hurt you."_

I wanted to say something back, but honestly, there wasn't anything to say. Living everyday with the constant feeling that everybody hates you, it was almost like a plague. Hearing him admit something to me- even though we had just met, could almost be taken as utter bullshit. But there was truth to his words. Some sort of trustworthy clarity.

Before I could attempt to continue the conversation, a guard was shouting my name from back outside the door. They were probably gonna do more tests on me, give me my paperwork and stuff. I still needed a room. _Were roommates a thing here? _

"Lovely." My voice mumbled, and I walked away from Tate. He looked a bit concerned, but he didn't follow me. I had to face whatever the upcoming torture was alone. His words were invading my mind; the doctor, the diseases- all of it. Could that be happening to me? Was I about to go greet an uncertain death?

Awkwardly, I shuffled out the door. The group of men were right there to drag me away. One took a hold of my right wrist, another the left. "You're going to see Sister Jude. She's going to determine your placement."

Of course, I had no idea who this Sister Jude character was. The entire idea of this place being run by nuns, confused the fuck out of me. They were probably going to do some ritual to clear my demons. I didn't have demons. I had a bad history.

Why was Tate the only one who seemed to understand that?

My body was half dragged, half pushed, down the main hallway. There was a bunch of spiraling staircase, and an open door, screaming _Freedom! _But, there was no getting out of the grip of these guards. Freedom, today, was not for me.

Finally, we stopped in front of a large door. It was dark, and uninviting, but they did not hesitate to push me into the room. Every guard stood right behind me, like some sort of shield. As soon as my eyes got used to the light, I could focus on the older woman. She looked harsh and angry, and I couldn't help but notice the giant cabinet in the corner.

"Violet Harmon. Taken in today for, mm, suicide attempt." Sister Jude announced, looking down at a blank sheet of paper.

"That's right." I responded, although it wasn't necessary.

She rolled her eyes and took a step closer, staring right at me. "You'll be in Room 30A on the second floor. I'm placing you with somebody a bit less, violent."

Ha.

"There's some rules around here. Don't start fights, injure people, or attempt escape. You will be immediately punished." _Too many forms of punishment. _"You'll be in the 2nd group for bakery, with the, mm, rather aggressive patients. More guards will be present so you don't go running off."

What group was Tate in?

Of course, I wasn't going to ask. But it invaded my mind.

A bell suddenly rang out overhead, sending me into a nervous jump.

"Take her. Go eat lunch." Sister Jude addressed, turning back around to her desk.

_And so the flower's petals were already wilting. _


	4. Scars

_** Thank you guys so much for all the views/reviews/favorites! I promise from now on, the chapters will be much longer. I hope you guys enjoy my writing, as I'm working harder to make it better.**_

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**_Tate:_**

I watched her leave the common room, feeling utterly helpless. There was nothing I could do to stop her from facing whatever was coming. I wished I could've kept her there with me, shielded her. And if I knew for a fact she was going to be harmed, I would have. Although, this was only her first day here. It was probably just the initial speech from Jude.

Other people danced aimlessly around the common room, but I felt like I was frozen in place. Melody the old schizophrenic, who made my only friend, had bakery duty around this time. They had put her with the easy patients. I, of course, was claimed with group 2. The more aggressive ones. Those who were really crazy.

_Bringing a gun to Westfield isn't crazy. It was a public ser_vice.

Any other day, I would have gladly accepted the free time that was being provided. But now I just wanted to see Violet, again. I knew nothing about her. Her name, but that was mostly it. I didn't believe in any of that shitty love stuff. Or friendship, really.

But she had sparked more than my attention.

A screeching bell sounded overhead, interrupting my train of thought. Lunch. Maybe I could see her again. Maybe they would give her the privilege of food. Which, in some cases, wasn't offered to those who misbehaved. I once went two days without a crumb.

Though, they couldn't kill the _legendary_ Tate Langdon.

My feet walked slowly out the door. It was like they were taunting us in this walk everyday. We could see the outside, but they could not see us. I knew the routine by heart- we would pass through the everlasting hallway, and arrive at the cafeteria doors. A part of the cafeteria branched off to the bakery, but Group 2 was cooking later tonight. I didn't have to worry about that job, now.

As we walked in front of Sister Jude's room, the door flung open. Violet was being escorted out, into the group.

Instantly, I lurched forward, standing by her side again. Nothing had change in her strong confidence.

This one had fire.

There were no new marks, nothing to indicate she had been in any sort of pain. "What happened?" I questioned her.

"Nothing. I'm on Floor 2, Room 30A. 2nd group for the bakery. They told me to eat lunch." The flower announced.

_20A. The bakery._

"- 'Dunno who's in that room. But you're in my bakery group." I responded, trying not to sound as happy as I was.

Nobody could know how much a person was changing me.

I needed to be invincible.

_**Violet:**_

Seeing him was almost like a relief. Tate was the only one I had met around here, and despite the shocking story that he offered, I still felt comfort around him. This boy was a murderer, of innocent teenagers. But we were both locked up in the nut house. Nothing left to loose anymore.

My mouth broke into a grin when he announced we were in the same group for baking. Just one other thing I wouldn't have to worry about. It wasn't that I planned on making any friends. My only friends were my cigarettes. But Tate seemed decent.

Though, he mostly seemed empty. There was a deep, darkness in his eyes that took over his personality.

_ Almost like death._

We broke through the cafeteria doors, walking into the lunch room. From what I could see, it was smaller than a school's. There were a couple tables with patients already sitting around. The food, of course, looked like total shit.

Tate dragged me towards a line, promising that the soup was the best dish. "All of this looks like crap. And that looks like vomit." I told him, turning my direction to the tray of somebody else. He only smiled and laughed, grabbing a bowl for me to take. The soup didn't smell terrible. I would give him that.

"Where are we sitting?" My voice spoke.

"Right over there. With Melody." He responded. I followed his footsteps towards a tiny table. An old woman, who appeared to be about 70, was picking at her brown mush. Her eyes weren't as wild as the others, although there was something off about her. I smiled as we approached her table, trying to make a good impression.

"Melody, this is Violet. She's new here." Tate told her, nudging me forward.

"Violet, Violet. They like your name." The woman answered, scooting aside for us to sit. Of course, I had no idea who she meant by _they-_ but she clearly wasn't going to tell me.

"Violet, Violet, Violet, Violet.." Melody continued to sing. "There are scars on your wrist, Violet."

My sleeves had come up, just an instant. Just enough for her to notice. Just enough for her to speak loudly enough in front of Tate.

There was a flash of confusion and hurt inside his eyes. Breaking through the black echo.

"Violet is still beautiful." He said, not even looking at my arm.


	5. First Sight

**_Violet:_**

_"Violet is still beautiful."_

I try not to show any sort of emotion, but it's hard to hide.

I don't know this boy. I know his story, I know his face, but nothing else. And here he is, going against the normal things to do, and calling me beautiful.

My parents were the only ones to ever call me beautiful. And that was when I was 6 or 7. But he's here now, within the first two hours of our meeting, proclaiming it like a fact.

I choose not to say anything, but Melody's face is broken out into a grin. She's looking right at Tate- probably trying to figure out what the Hell is going on. Even I don't know the answer to that question.

It seems about appropriate for me to give them some time. "I'm going to the bathroom." My voice mumbles, and I rise from the table.

_**Tate:**_

It was a stupid thing for me to say. Even to her, because she's fragile. I can see every vulnerability that is surrounding her soul. Even the parts that I know she will never admit.

I want to stop her from leaving, so I'll have more time just to look at her eyes, but she's already gone from the table. Disappeared from the room. Melody is smiling next to me, looking happier than I've ever seen her.

"What?" I question.

She puts her fork down. It was touching the brown goo that they have clearly mistaken as food.

"She's very beautiful. I'm just happy for you." Melody comments.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm good with people, Tate." She speaks, "I can see that fire in her eyes. But I can also see that she trusts you. Her hand was facing yours. That girl is as drawn to your company as you are to hers."

I don't know if she's telling the truth, but I feel a surge of adrenaline go through me. This isn't like the girls I used to miserably watch in High School. All of this, her, it's all different. Violet is worth my time.

Frankly, she's worth anything.

I can tell out of habit. When you spend days and nights inside an Asylum, you learn to know what's worth living for.

Violet Harmon is definitely one of them.

"Is it bad that I already want her? We've only just met." I mumbled. Strange asking Melody for relationship advice. Maybe this is the voices in her head speaking.

"Love at first sight." She replies.

What a concept.

**I know this is really short, but the next chapter will be very, very long! I hope you all are enjoying the story so far. I'm not trying to rush it, but honestly, Tate is one of those characters who just gets very quickly attached.**

**Thanks for all the favorites and reviews! **

**-Sierra 3**


	6. Panic

Warning: This chapter has a trigger warning for harassment. If you are affected by this, please don't read it. :) I want this story to be readable to everyone, but this is a major part of the plot. Thank you so much!

**Violet:**

After dinner, they sent us straight to our rooms. Which, in all honesty, were more like cells. I didn't sleep at all, and I knew there would soon be bags forming darkness under my eyes. The beds seemed to be made from steel, as if we were inside a real prison. Although, everyone knew that an Alcatraz was probably better than Briarcliff. At least there, the patients weren't treated by psychotic surgeons.

Though, there were perks to the asylum. There was _his_ company.

The hours were passing by endlessly, and I couldn't even tell what time at night it was. Probably around two or three in the morning. My back was aching from the sitting position, and I crossed my arms with hostility. This place was not going to destroy my strength. I refused to let it.

In the silence that overtook me, I began to think. Of everything. My location, my past, my seemingly hopeless future. It was all meaningless inside this windowless cell. We were prisoners of our own minds. Warriors of the pain that encompassed our thoughts. I, especially, because my darkness had already been controlling me. Tate was providing some sort of light, but I figured he would give up on me eventually. It wasn't like people to keep me around. I was cruel, and determined. No boy had ever given me a second glance- except for him.

Wait, I take that back.

There's a boy looking at me through the door.

"Who the Hell are you?" I whispered harshly, not wanting to wake up anyone else on the floor. In the pitch black, I could hardly see his face. But he was familiar- I had seen him playing checkers in the common room. Him, and a group of others, had watched me walk in. I assumed they knew I was hands off. Tate was the only one I could see myself trusting. (Except maybe Melody. Despite her true insanity, she had potential.)

The boy flashed an mischievous grin, and the doorknob began to rattle. I stood up from my spot on the ground almost immediately. _What was going on? Was he breaking the lock?_ As if he were a mind reader, the door swung open with ease.

"What?! Where did you learn to do that?" I announced, taking a step towards him. "-And who are you?"

He let out a defeated sigh and stepped out of the way. My body was free to move straight into the hallway.

"-M' name's Michael. My friends and I wanted to talk to you." He responded, a few other men began to appear from behind him. Not exactly men, still teenagers, but they were a strong psychical presence.

"How did you unlock the door?" I questioned, with an eyebrow raised. Things were getting heated. I didn't trust Michael, or any of the others behind him. Tate wasn't here. He couldn't help me.

"- You learn a few things when you stay here. We'll teach you some." Michael answered. I was going to say no, shut the door in a nervous panic, but it was two late. His fingers mangled around my wrist, and yanked me forward from my safe spot in the room. He practically shoved me into the pile of boys. One of them was grabbing my wrist, another shoving a hand over my mouth. _No, no. Fuck, no. This isn't happening. This isn't going to happen. _A hand moved away from my mouth, and I began to scream. It came out in a gasping sob, but hopefully loud enough for somebody else to hear me. _How far away was Tate's room? _

Someone hit my head, in punishment for the scream. A new hand held my mouth so tightly that it was getting hard to breathe. Every muscle was fighting against their grip- but they were just too overpowering. I felt more weak than ever. Even more than when the guards had dragged me in this morning. These boys were taking advantage of me- they were going to break the law. And I was the victim.

I was the victim.

They began to push me up a few stairs, although my vision was blocked by Michael's brown hair. His face wasn't facing mine- and lucky for him, because I would've head-butted him. This situation was true vulnerability. We reached the top of the stairs, and my body began to tremble violently. Tears were falling down my face, hitting the floor with a pound. None of them seemed to care. _They didn't feel anything._

An upstairs door opened, and through vision cracks, I could tell we were in an empty closet Somewhere between the two main hallways. They were shifting me into the room, and I did the last thing I could think of. My teeth bit down on the hand holding my lips, causing metallic blood to spill from his hands.

I started to scream as loudly as I could when he let go.

"Tate!" My voice cracked, before one of them shut the door.

_**Tate:**_

The nights were lonely. They were always lonely. It was during the night time that I questioned my little sanity.

But tonight I was only thinking of her.

She was swarming her way into my thoughts. Her features, which were so bright and youthful. They brought cleansing to the world. She deserved to be shown off, but my self conceited ways wanted her all to myself. Violet was to be displayed as beautiful. This was consuming me, and when I heard my name, "Tate!" from her words, I almost didn't think it was real.

**But it was real.**

And full of desperation.

I sprung up from where I had been laying. Her voice was distant, she was clearly in pain. And I couldn't reach her. I was stuck inside this cell, stuck in darkness. "Violet!" I shouted back, hoping she could hear me. This place was not going to trap me from reaching her. Nobody was going to hurt her. Not while I was around.

My hands fumbled with the padlock, barely slipping through the door. It was chained shut, impossible for any person to open. Even if I had all the strength in the world, metal just couldn't be bent. I continued to shout her name, hoping maybe a guard, or another inmate would hear me. My body was being thrown over and over against the wall, but it was no use. I was greeted by nothing but silence and bitter disappointment-

Until Melody appeared outside the door.

There were no time for questions. She opened the lock with ease, and I practically shoved her out of the way. I didn't know how she got the keys, how she was rescuing me, but that could all be saved for later. Violet Harmon was in trouble, and I was determined to get her out of it. Those honey colored eyes would live to see another day.

I stumbled frantically down the left hall, holding out my hands to steady me. Nervous panic was attacking my blood, my mind, my everything. There was a commotion coming from the janitor room. Barely audible, if you weren't trying to hear it. But I could hear every muffled scream.

With every inch of power inside me, I opened the door.

**Sorry this took forever to update, but I hope you enjoy. How are you all liking Coven? I love Zyle.**

**-Sierra**


	7. Tainted Determination

Trigger warning from last chapter (violence/sexual harassment) is here again! Please keep that in mind. :) Enjoy!

_**Violet:**_

They are way too overpowering. As my feet stumble into the tiny closet, I choke back a sob. I would continue to scream and beg, but there's no point anymore. I don't hear anybody coming for my rescue. All I can hear are their voices- annoying and demanding, talking about me. I didn't ask for this, but I'm not scared of anything. These people could take advantage of me and harass me, but I was not going to be weak. I was going to look them in the eye and pray that they got what they deserved.

Karma's a bitch.

Michael, the tallest one, shoved me onto the ground. Everything was freezing cold, and I was shaking even more than before. But I could feel my confidence regaining. The tears in my eyes had stopped flowing. Now there was only an angry, fiery stare. A different boy, one who was still unrecognizable, practically pinned my arm to the ground. _You're going to scream, and it's not going to be good. And despite your strength, Violet, you're weak. You're weak and you need to get out of here. You need to escape. _

There really was no way out. There were too many boys keeping me in, too much nervous whispers and muscle for me to try anything. Michael leaned down, staring at me with an evil grin. I wanted to rip it off his face. I wanted to kill them, more than I had ever wanted to do anything before.

"Fuck you." I spoke in defiance. Something was better than nothing, right?

"Shut up." He answered. His hands, cold and unfamiliar, began to grip the hem of my t-shirt. It began to occur to me that this might actually happen. I was going to loose everything on the floor of this closet..

That was when the door opened.

_**Tate:**_

It didn't matter that I had once ran track, because I was running faster now than I ever had before. There were people in the closet, and they were hurting her, and that was going to stop. I was going to break them in more ways then they could dream of in nightmares. I was going to shove my hand down their throats just to clear their voice, before they even began to pay for_ touching_ her.

With a bit of a muffled groan, I gripped the door handle and swung it open. My eyes widened at the sight. There were a few boys who I recognized standing above her. One was on the ground, holding her down, and another was touching her shirt. _No. No, no, no, no.._

"Violet!" I screamed, pushing my way into the room. My hand curled into a fist, and I hit the first person I saw. He was clearly taken by surprise, as he stumbled backwards, clutching his jaw in pain. The adrenaline was so high that I couldn't even feel the sting on my hand. I searched around the room frantically until I could look at her again. Her eyes suddenly met mine, and as I saw that innocence and purity that these boys were trying to steal, I could feel myself going insane.

"Langdon?" Michael spat out my name, as he stood up. Violet was scrambling away to the corner. I pushed away the other boys with fierce determination, and walked forward to stand face to face with him. Michael raised an eyebrow- but I didn't care. _I didn't care, I didn't care- I don't care. _His lips were beginning to curl into a smile, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

With all the tainted fire that I could build up inside me, I shoved him into the wall.

His head hit the side with a loud bang, and I noticed that I was shouting Violet's name, without even realizing it. Michael's eyes shut in defeat, and I assumed he was unconscious, because the other boys began to back away from the room. I had scared them all away.

I didn't want them to leave. I wanted to torture each and every one of them. But Violet needed me right now, and I refused to abandon her. She was sitting on the ice cold floor, and her knees were touching her chest. I could see the remains of tears in her eyes. Those eyes, which looked up to me with vulnerability..that stare that I would never be able to get out of my mind. She was whimpering lightly, and I could tell that she had reached a breaking point.

"Shh, Violet. It's okay, it's okay.." I repeated over and over again as I bent beside her. Michael was still laying on the ground, but all of my attention was on her. "You're safe now. They're not going to hurt you."

I helped her stand up again, and she leaned against me. I could smell the vanilla scent in her hair, and she dug her face into my shoulder. I ran my fingertips through her blond hair, and I used every ounce of comforting words inside me, and gave them to her.

Because, despite what anybody wanted to say- she was mine, now. I wanted to see her honey eyes every single day, and I wanted her to feel the same way about me. She was the only thing that was keeping me from turning back and killing all those boys. Right now, she was serving as my anchor to reality.

Even if she could ever fall in love with me.

Even if I could kiss her, every day for the rest of my life, I would still want more time to be with her.

_**Wow guys! Thank you for all the views/reviews/favorites and followers! I hope you guys continue to keep up with the story, as I love to write it. **_

_**xx- Sierra**_


	8. Solitude

**Violet:**

I woke up to a painful throbbing in my head. In fact, there was practically pain everywhere. My arms were bruised with dark colors, or maybe it was just my vision turning things to black. Slowly, I sat up, though it took a few minutes for me to get an idea of where I was. The room was freezing cold, and I was alone. There were no windows, no doors that I could see. Was this a dream? A terrible nightmare?

My feet stood up from the ground, although it was becoming hard to hold up my weight. I could feel my legs becoming jelly underneath me, and my stomach was dropping. _Remember what happened. Remember the way they held you down. Trying to touch you._ The gross, unappealing feeling of vomit began to rise up in my throat. I needed answers. I needed to find Tate. Had the doctors sedated me? Was I dead?

I began to cough all over my hand, loud and hastily, as if I was sick with the flu. It went on for quite a long time, and my breathing was going completely out of control. I had lost my senses, as if I was drifting. Drifting away...

"Violet?" There was a voice coming from somewhere. Someone was talking.

"Who's there?" I choked out, and I scooted myself towards the right wall. The voice was barely audible, but it was definitely real.

"Violet, it's Melody." _Yes, now the voice is familiar. Melody is the schizophrenic. She sat with us at lunch._

As soon as I made that connection, everything suddenly fell into place. I could remember last night perfectly. I could see Tate knocking out Michael, and carrying me away. I could feel his body shivering as much as my own. I had fallen asleep in his arms.

"Where are we? Where's Tate?" I practically shouted. My body was becoming frigid with nervous pain.

"They put the both of us in solitary. One of the boys that was harassing you ran away and told the guards a false story. He told them that Tate attacked Michael for no reason." Melody's voice was trembling.

"But that's not true! Michael was trying to rape me!" I was almost screaming now, banging on the right wall.

"Michael's in the infirmary. They saw me out of my room, dragged me away. But along the way, they found you and Tate. One guard took Tate, and the other brought you and I down here." She explained.

I needed to know where Tate was. He needed to be okay. He had saved me from Michael.

He had saved me from myself.

"Melody, I have to find Tate. They're going to hurt him.." I spoke, but my words began to trail off. I didn't want to accept that it was true. This couldn't be happening.

"Violet.." She muttered, a bit soothingly.

"What?"

"The guards made the announcement this morning."

"Announcement? What the Hell are you talking about?" I spat, eyebrows clenched in frustration.

"Violet.. Tate's dead."

**_This is NOT the end. Seriously, though. Don't freak out. I would never be this cruel. I know this chapter is short, but next chapter will be very long and full of explanations. Good and bad._**

**_-Sierra :)_**


	9. Vents

**Violet:**

"Tate's dead."

No.

That's not right.

She's lying.

He was here last night- he was here, saving me, protecting me. And I could feel his heart- and it had never stopped. Never stopped. It was beating endlessly, it would always be...

But Melody wouldn't lie. Not about Tate.

I don't think I even notice when the first tear escapes my eye, because in a quarter of a second, I'm sobbing. Not just a normal, loud cry, but a noise that comes from every single part of me that is capable of care. He wasn't just somebody I had met two days ago- because in that time he had made me feel more meaningful than in my sixteen years of existence. My legs are curled up under me, and I bury my face into them out of complete desperation- because now I am lost. I am lost and alone with nothing..The prisoner of a windowless cell- and he's consuming every thought in my head.

Melody stays silent in the room next to me, but I still work up the courage to ask. I have to ask. For him.

"How?" My voice comes out in tremors, but I assume she knows what I mean.

"-No idea. He was breathing when the guards took last night, but this morning a different guard said that Tate was dead. Said he died holding you."

"That's bullshit! Tate was breathing! Nobody had even touched him! Nothing could have killed him!" I scream, although unnaturally loud. I don't care anymore.

"-You were sleeping, Violet. It could have been anything- stroke, heart attack.. Maybe one of the other boys got him from behind." Melody continued, though I could almost hear a bit of hope in her voice.

"I don't believe it. Unless I see his body, I'm not going to stop thinking he's alive. Tate's alive." I stated, with all my confidence- as if saying it would make it true. I could feel myself, probably becoming in denial, but nothing mattered anymore except him. I was going to find Tate- healthy and breathing, and prove to myself that he was really here. And if I were to find him dead- lifeless, then I would join him.

**Tate:**

i guess it had never occurred to me how easy it was to disappear.

**Violet:**

As soon as I hear the footsteps coming downstairs, I'm preparing myself to talk to the guard. To try to get any information from him- and hopefully nothing but the facts. But when the door opens- I'm looking up at the bruised up face of Michael, the leader of last nights attackers. Immediately, I'm up on my feet, gathering so much adrenaline that I easily push him against the wall. I can see the startled look in his eyes- and I know that in mine there is nothing but rage.

"What the Hell happened to Tate!?" I cry out, holding the collar of his shirt like a weapon. His expression turns grim, and he sighs a bit dramatically.

"That's what I came to talk to you about. Get your hands off me."

I don't want to listen to him- and I really don't want to trust him, but I let him go. For the sake of helping Tate.

"Tell me the truth. Is he dead?" I question, looking to him for nothing but honesty.

"-I don't know. He knocked me out, remember?"

"You deserved it."

Michael seems to wince a bit at my words, hanging his head down.

"-I feel shitty for what I did, Violet. I wouldn't go around helping anyone- but God knows that I owe you."

"Then speak up."

"This morning my roommate got up to use the bathroom, and he heard something in the vents. Said it was Tate's voice. He was saying something about you. My guess is that he was in a different room- and the sound echoed through the vents." He told me, and my voice began to rise with hope.

"So he's not dead?"

"I'm not saying that. It could have not been Tate..It could have been his last words."

He's right. There's a million bad endings, but I have to stick with my plan. I need proof before I mourn.

"I'm not taking the bullshit from the guards. I think Tate is alive, and I'm going to find him. And if he's dead, at least I'll know. You gotta help me get out of here."

"-I will..Listen, I'm sorry about last night.."

I cut him off mid sentence.

"Don't apologize. I'm not going to forgive you. If it weren't for Tate- I'd be sending the guards for you right now. You help me escape. Now."

He agrees with a slight nod, and I notice that his eyes are completely bloodshot. I don't believe his tales of sympathy, and I don't want to believe him at all- but at least its something. There's a chance at finding Tate.

And I'll die unless I take it.

**Tate:**

i hope she doesn't forget me.

**Violet:**

We leave Solitary with nothing but ease, and I'm stuck wondering how Michael had even managed to get in here. There is hardly any security. In fact, there's hardly anyone at all. The guards seem to be completely scattered, as if each one of them had disappeared.

"Wheres all the patrol?" I ask as we round a corner, heading back towards the main hallway.

"Some schizo went crazy in the basement. They needed everyone to chain him down...Here." He pointed towards a white door, labeled with the word MENS. It was probably nasty to be going into the boys bathroom. None of that mattered, anymore. I'd walk through anything to get him back.

"-There's nobody in. Come on." Michael pushes me inside, and I find myself shuddering away from his touch. I don't want to be alone with him- and after what happened last night, I'm not sure I ever want to be alone with a boy anymore. It's almost much too easy to take advantage of me. I'm too small to be a real threat.

Tate made me feel like I had some power.

We are standing inside a tiny room- definitely a shitty bathroom, but I'm only concerned about the air vent. It's rather close to the ground, and rusting over the sink. The entire place reeks- and I'm plugging my nose instinctively. Slowly, my fingers unhook the edges of the vent- until it rests completely open. Just an empty black hole in the middle of the bathroom. I whisper something random into it, and I can hear the echo. It would make sense for someone to send messages through this thing.

I shout his name through the vent, and wait a couple seconds, but there is no reply. I try to shake away the disappointment that's burning through me. He could be somewhere. Maybe he didn't hear me. Maybe they moved him.

Maybe he died.

_Died._

_No!_

_No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No..._

_"_Tate!" I'm screaming so loudly that I can feel my throat immediately dry out, and I'm clawing at the air vent with every single bit of energy. His name is like a chorus in my mouth, and I continue to scream- louder, louder,** louder.** My knees are buckling underneath me, and I'm turning to black, but I'm chanting his name. Chanting and chanting because I want a reply.. My fingers- still crawling at the vent, are now pounding on the wall. My body is slamming the wall- once, twice, until hands are gripping me. Michael is restraining my movement, trying to get me to stop. But he feels cold and foreign- he doesn't feel like Tate in any way. In fact, Michael feels like the opposite.

"Don't touch me!" I scream, but he persists in trying to stop my fit.

"We're going to get caught in here! And then your _boyfriend_ is totally fucked!"

He's not my boyfriend. We didn't even know each other long enough to do anything, and maybe it's my fault he's dead. I'm the one who couldn't defend myself.

_It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my-_

_"Stop! Just kill me already!"_

The voice. I didn't imagine it. It didn't come from my lips.

It came from the vent.

It was pained, and tainted and corrupted and ruined-

Michael's eyes widen, and I know that he heard it too.

Because who wouldn't recognize the voice of Tate Langdon?

_**Hi guys! I really hope you liked this update. I can't begin to describe how amazing it feels to read your support! Every review and favorite and view just means everything to me. Poor Violet. She can't seem to escape pain- psychical and mental. I've got a pretty good idea of where I want this story to go, though. Make sure to check out my newest story- "Escape Artist." It's a Violate AU. **_

_**- Sierra **_


	10. Brutal Force

Words can't describe how much I love reading your reviews and everything. Thanks for all the support on this story! I also am writing another one- Escape Artist, which has about two chapters done as of right now. I really hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm beginning to make these much longer and detailed, so I hope you enjoy.

-Sierra

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_**Violet:**_

After hearing his voice, those few tortured words, I decided that being impulsive would get me nowhere. He was obviously trapped- probably greeting some sort of eternal doom, and I could ruin it all by rushing in there. I would stop at nothing to get him back, of course, but my next motive had to be much more elaborate. I needed details, and I needed them now.

"-It's him. Where do these vents lead to?" I questioned Michael, who was standing next to me in awe. His face made an angry heat build up inside me. This boy was nothing short of a monster.

"Come on. We'll follow them down the hall."

I nodded, and closed the vent, as if nobody had ever been there. It rusted together like a puzzle piece. I hated closing it- I felt entirely disconnected from him. Tate needed to know that I was coming, and that I was going to help him. Before anything worse could seal his fate.

We left the bathroom in quiet footsteps, although the hallway still remained empty. I could see the way back to Solitary- where Melody still sat mourning over the death that didn't exist. There was much more to that lady that I craved to understand. Maybe it was my Dad's mind getting to me, or maybe my own thoughts, but I liked the idea of psychological disorders.

My eyes trailed up to the roof, and about every ten feet were vents. They blew cold air right into the faces of Michael and I. I wondered what Tate would think of this partnership. It was gross to me, and I wanted to inflict pain on this dark haired boy, but I needed his help. Just for now. And then he could really pay for what he did to me.

The vents eventually came to a stop, with a final one perched on top of a doorway.

And with just my luck, I recognized the name on the door.

The doctor.

"Bullshit! They can't actually be doing crazy medical stuff to him!" I practically shouted, before Michael hushed me with a concerned look.

"I'm sure that's exactly what they're doing, Violet. It's Briarcliff, not Disney World."

Could he be any more screwed up?

"-Obviously. We've got to get him out of there." I spoke, trying to get a view through the window. It was blocked with some sort of black sheet- completely shielding the outside view. My brain started rushing around ways I could get rid of it. In fact, I was about to explain some sort of plan, when an echoed scream came through the door. Tate's scream, of course, and it sounded even worse than before. No part of me wanted to think of the terrible things that were going on in there, but yet they began to consume me.

Experiments. Surgeries. Memory Loss. Electroshock. Death.

"This isn't happening." I muttered, staring desperately into Michael's cold eyes.

"We can try to help hi-"

"No!" I blurted out, suddenly gaining a bit of courage. And before he could stop me- before I could even stop myself, I knocked on the door to the office.

* * *

_**Tate:**_

...

* * *

**Violet:**

There were a couple seconds of painful silence, until the door creaked open. It made a screeching noise that rang in my ears- disturbing the bitter silence. A sudden darkness began to creep around me, coming from inside the room, exploding into the light of the hallway. A man appeared, who was much taller than me, and clearly old. He was unnaturally skinny, and his eyes began to dart everywhere. The true expression of somebody who was taking in his surroundings. There was a small name tag on his shirt- reading_ Dr. Arden._

"Are you a patient? You're not allowed to be out of your room." He stated, glancing down at me. Michael had disappeared around the hall.

What a coward.

"I guess I'm in the mood to challenge authority."

"That's a terrible idea." He responded, looking down on me.

"Does it look like I give a shit?"

Dr. Arden's face began to glow, a light shade of red. I wanted to wipe all the color of his face, maybe just run him over so I could get inside the room. But brutal force would never work. He had the advantage.

"Give me Tate, and I won't tell Sister Jude that you're performing psycho human experiments." I announced, trying to make myself seem a bit intimidating. An emotion struck his face, but not one I was expecting. It appeared to be... recognition.

"You must be Violet."

"How do you know me?"

"He keeps talking about you."

"Then give him to me."

"No."

Times like this when I wished I had done at least five hundred push ups this morning. The doctor was building up all the rage and hatred inside me, and I could almost feel it burning a hole through my eyes.

"You, Violet, need to return back to your room. I'll call Sister Jude and you'll be punished. Maybe even sent in here."

And thats when I form my plan.

Because he is the only doctor, after all.

"Fine." I muttered, and turned my back on his wrinkled face. There's something in the air- unfinished business, really. But I know exactly what I need to do. Luckily, Michael is nowhere to be found. Nobody is going to interfere with my plan.

I'm going to be sent to the doctor.

* * *

Reviews are much appreciated c:


	11. Paralyzed

Hi readers! Your support is so amazing. c: I realized that I'm updating pretty quickly..oops! I hope you guys can all keep up haha. I feel like I should let you know of some background for this story. This does take place in modern day! The little Tate blurb at the beginning is describing the events of the night before. And** there is a trigger warning in this chapter for self harm/violence.** Enjoy.

* * *

_**"-**_**And then it is all madness- the madness of a memory which busies itself among forbidden things."**

**-Edgar Allan Poe**

* * *

_**Tate:**_

_The few minutes, as she was sleeping, were probably the most stressful. I couldn't move with Violet in my hands- I couldn't disturb her. Because she finally looked peaceful, which was a quality which I was positive that she craved. Without a doubt, the guards heard the previous commotion, and a few came my way. But I was exhausted, and willing to take punishment. As long as I could see her after it was over._

_ When someone took her body, wrapped up in mine like it was meant to be there, every part of me felt ice cold. Violet was distanced now- they were carrying her to solitary. I began to try and call her name, but my throat was dry. Too dry to form words. I let them drag me away, as I hoped in every part of me for her safety. I let them lead me to the unknown terror._

* * *

**_Violet:_**

I was going to be sent to the doctor. So that I could save him- convince Arden that he was of no use rotting in there. That Michael, or some other asshole should take his place, and the bit of innocence that rested in Tate could be given back to me. A plan was starting to form in my head, nothing too smart and thought out, but I was acting on instinct. Every thought was screaming at me to go back to him- see what was happening to him, so much that I had no time to make things creative. I was going to get the job done- and as fast as possible.

The pathway to the kitchen was easy. It seemed like no guards were roaming around, and the few that were standing, I easily got past by saying I was using the restroom. Nobody seemed to worry about a sixteen year old girl getting into trouble. They had bigger problems. Like a school shooter, for example. One who cared about others over himself.

I greeted the doors with open arms. I hadn't been inside the bakery yet, but there was a first for everything. Through the windows, I could see that the entire place was abandoned. Briarcliff was seriously lacking at good security skills. So many patients could easily find a way out. I snatched the door handle and turned it slightly to the right, and it creaked open. The place seemed like one huge haunted house. Not that I was afraid- I felt even more fearless, in fact.

My eyes went immediately to what I was looking for- the large supply of kitchen utensils. Dozens of spoons, forks, knives, spatulas, practically everything. One in particular caught my attention. Perfect.

I held on to it, and placed my hands behind my back. Although it looked suspicious, there really was nobody around to judge me. I hurried out of the bakery and made sure that the doors were relocked. Still, the object was visible in my hand. Just a few more steps...

And there. A guard, blocking the right exit. He didn't even look up- his eyes were staring with hope out the window. A guard here would be such a shitty job. You couldn't use your cell phone, or anything of that nature. No more world news, YouTube, Tumblr, email.

I purposely coughed loudly, and immediately he turned towards me.

This was it.

Before he could react, or yell at me, or any other form of punishment, I showed him the knife from behind my back. Not to threaten him- no, I wasn't going to hurt him. His eyes widened with fear, but I only sighed, and ran the knife over my wrist. It didn't hurt- no, I was used to that pain, but it had been such a long time. Blood began to pool onto my clothing, dripping to the floor in small puddles. I didn't cut deep enough to kill me- it would heal, but not without a bandage. Not without a doctor.

The guard raced over, screaming for more patrol, and soon many other men came rushing through the doors. One snatched my hands, pulling me slowly but surely towards Doctor Arden's office.

* * *

Three knocks on the door, and I was once again staring at the doctor. He seemed confused at first, but then noticed the wound on my hand.

"Give her to me." He announced, pulling me away from the guards. The door was shut instantly. I whipped my head around, trying to search the room for Tate, but Arden's body blocked my way.

"That was a bad idea." The doctor spoke, in a strange way. I wanted him to be angry- but his emotion was calm.

"But it worked." I replied. The second the words came out of my mouth, there was some sort of commotion in the back of the room. Something dropped, crashing loudly on the ground. My mouth opened to scream his name- but Arden's hand grasped over it. I couldn't fight his strength, but I squirmed in defiance. He pushed me forward, so that I was finally turned around.

I could see him now. He sat crouched on a metal table, one hand bound so that he couldn't escape. Wild panic was displayed on his face, and he began to pull desperately at the chain. "Violet!" Tate's voice cracked, just a tiny bit. "-Why are you in here?!"

I angrily bit down on the hand that was covering my mouth, and Arden let go- mumbling a few curse words.

"Tate!" I shouted, and as I stepped forward- I finally noticed. The color was drained from his face. Fresh bruises lined his arms, a few red dots here and there. He looked like a broken rag doll, and I shivered in rage.

"-What did you do to him?" I spat, turning back towards the doctor.

Before he even began an answer, I was pulled to the right- next to another metal table. It was identical to the one of Tate's- and I began to fight Arden's strength. It was no use. My hand was chained to the bed.

"I've been doing tests. The human emotions are very strange, you see. I was intrigued by Tate. It's not every day we get a school shooter in here. His violent tendencies..I just couldn't resist getting answers. So he's been here with me, experiencing different forms of pain. I've been recording all of it."

_Experiencing different forms of pain._

Arden snatched something off the table- a bandage, but I was staring at Tate. Neither of us said anything- but there was that unspoken communication. He was pissed at me for showing up, not wanting me to get hurt- but I didn't imagine things to be this cruel. I wasn't exactly thinking correctly. Arden's hands wrapped around my wrist, preventing the blood from spilling anymore. Tate looked hurt as he stared at the crimson color, which was staining my clothing.

"You see, Violet. I'm really glad you showed up. I've been doing some thinking." The doctor spoke, smirking.

"Of what?"

"I wonder how he would react to mental pain. I mean, Tate, your head must be a very dark place.." Arden commented, and I began to sweat bullets. "-Clearly he cares too much about you. God, he hasn't shut up about _you_. He can't be a complete psychopath, because he's showing human emotion..But I wonder."

Tate realized before I did. I saw fear strike his face, and I didn't understand until there was a sharp pain in my arm. Tate began to scream- pulling desperately at the chain, shouting curses and my name. I couldn't really focus on anything except my right arm, which was suddenly feeling like it was catching fire.

"What is this?" I whispered, looking up at Arden.

"That's a medication used for a muscle disease that you don't have. If you take it without a prescription, it messes with your nerves. It mainly causes harsh pain- though some people have become paralyzed due to it."

"-And why are you trying to torture me?"

"I'd like to see how Tate reacts. Mental pain. Like I said."

Oh.

Because hurting me- someone he cares about, is a form of mental pain. The real type.

That all falls together as the blood in my arm began to burn.

* * *

_**Tate:**_

It's funny, because even as she sat there, trying not to show her pain and weakness, she still looked beautiful. But I knew the medicine she was just given- he used it on me. Though, my body was muscular and large, and it wasn't capable of paralyzing me. Violet, on the other hand, was tiny and skinny, and it could very well have terrible effects. The chain wasn't moving, as much as I yanked on it- with every single force in my body, it just wouldn't budge. There were tears once again on my face. Things would never be normal for Violet and I.. and wasn't it my fault that she was here, anyways? If I hadn't touched her that first day- she could be okay, right now. This was all my fault and I had to stop it. She's innocent, pure. Not worthy of this. No.

Violet was sitting so close to me- I could practically see the tiny beads of sweat on her forehead. But for some reason, she didn't look at me. I wanted her to look at me. I wanted her to see that she was going to be safe, and I was going to help her, but her eyes were trained on the floor. Quiet whimpers fought their way out of her lips, although she was trying to restrain them. Arden had his gaze directly on her. I guess he was as intrigued with her pain as he was with mine.

I noticed the knife, which used to be curled in her pale fingers, on the table beside me. On the side of the bed with my free hand.

I moved swiftly and silently, not allowing myself to fail this simple task. It was balancing near me, and the tips of my right fingers grabbed it... _Yes._

"Hey, asshole." I mumbled. Arden turned to face me, and I noticed Violet's eyes glance up. They were beginning to turn bright red. It was at this moment that I was glad I was a killer. The knife had been moved to my left hand, the one chained to the bed, and my free hand grabbed Arden's shirt. I pulled him close to me, so close that I could use my left hand to press the blade to his chest.

"Let both of us go, or I'll kill you. Right here."

And he looked afraid. No longer carrying that peaceful countenance. He knew that I would do it. After all, I had the advantage. The cold knife was pressing a line into his skin.

"Let us go."

"Then let go of my shirt."

"Funny. You're going to unlock this chain from my hand, and I'm going to hold this knife to your chest until you let her go." I stated, and without a doubt, he gave me a panicked nod. The doctor couldn't risk his life being thrown away.

Arden's hand twisted the screw on the chain, and I felt it break off of me with ease. I immediately moved the knife higher, now that my left hand was free, so it sat positioned at his throat. He didn't try anything smart- only let me rise from the bed. My feet almost collapsed underneath me..I had been sitting on that chair for far too long. But I kept myself balanced for her.

Her- Violet- who was looking at me with so much hope, that I wanted to take a picture of it. She was still crying, involuntarily, because the pain was causing her body to react. There wasn't a way to get the poison out of her- or else I would have demanded it. We just had to wait it out for an hour or so.

Arden unlocked her chain, and she rushed towards the door- but didn't open it. Violet wouldn't leave without me. That was a first.

"You're going to let both of us leave here, and you're not going to bother us again. And I swear to God- if you even touch her, I'll find a way to kill you. Understand?" I spoke, directly at Arden.

"Fine."

And with that, I picked up her body- which weighed practically nothing, and stepped in the hallway. Back towards my room- where we wouldn't be bothered.

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Reviews are much appreciated c:


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